


vast distances

by spookykingdomstarlight



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Awkward Crush, M/M, Minor Leia Organa/Han Solo, Oblivious, Pining, Post-Star Wars: Return of the Jedi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-01-31 21:57:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12690993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookykingdomstarlight/pseuds/spookykingdomstarlight
Summary: Lando could ignore it if he wanted to, conveniently or genuinely misconstrue what Luke meant. They could go about like they always did and Luke would have an answer once and for all. He could move on and maybe then Lando wouldn’t have to be so awkward around him.Or maybe he would and Luke would just learn to accept it.





	vast distances

**Author's Note:**

  * For [anaraine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anaraine/gifts).



Luke tried not to make it a habit to stare—he learned manners when he was a kid, mostly thanks to Aunt Beru—but sometimes, even he had a hard time avoiding it. Especially not when the object of his scrutiny stood so very nearby and commanded attention wherever he went, regardless of how much he wanted or required it. The answer was, respectively, a little bit and not at all. ‘He didn’t wear a cape today’ occupied the vast majority of Luke’s thoughts on the matter. A small portion devoted itself to contemplating how very different one Lando Calrissian looked without that particular article of clothing. Not naked exactly, but vulnerable.

Appealing, too, obviously, but also a little bit risqué. His shoulders had never been exposed in quite this way before, not that Luke could remember—and Luke was fairly certain that he would. Those shoulders were slenderer than Luke might have imagined, almost delicate, though set in a frame that spoke of his power, composure, and confidence. Lando would never be a bruiser, but there was more than one way to win, and brute force wasn’t a prerequisite for any of them.

“Anyone in there?” Leia asked, snapping her fingers in front of his eyes and waving her hand back and forth like a flag. He sensed in her the tiniest degree of annoyance and flushed at having been caught daydreaming. About Lando no less. Who was currently leaning into Han’s space like he belonged there.

Typical.

“Unfortunately,” Luke answered, droll and even-toned. Han called it his nerfshit Jedi wisdom voice. Luke merely believed it to be a hard-won sense of peace and conviction. _Yeah,_ a voice that sounded suspiciously like Han said from a small corner of Luke’s mind. _What else is that but nerfshit Jedi wisdom?_ Straightening up, he cupped his hands around the warm mug before him. Steam drifted upward before him, scented lightly with honey and a hint of the fruit used to make this particular infusion. It wasn’t his favorite drink, but it was what Leia had given him and he’d taken it gratefully. He flashed her an apologetic smile and brought to bear every bit of attention he hadn’t given to her before. “I’m sorry, Leia. My mind is…”

“A million miles away,” she said, sympathetic. Then, sly, “Or across the room perhaps?”

She’d lowered her voice, so Luke felt no real threat in the roundabout acknowledgment, but even so, his gaze slid back toward the pair now laughing at something Lando had said. Lando’s hand rested on Han’s arm and though Luke wasn’t jealous—at least in that direction, there wasn’t anything to be jealous of—he longed for a lot of what that touch symbolized. “Sometimes,” Luke said, “those are one and the same.”

“How poetic,” Leia said, a wry smile on her face. “You could tell him, you know. I don’t think he’d mind it if you did.”

Luke shook his head. “Maybe I will.” The words belied that negative jerk of his head. “But not today.” Leaning forward, he reached for Leia’s hand. She had grown incandescent in the Force, every week a little brighter. Even if Leia had tried to hide the truth from Luke—not that she hadn’t told him immediately—it would have been obvious all the same. She was going to have a baby. And a powerful one at that, a strong one. So much raw power that even Luke wasn’t sure what she’d do with it. _I’ll help,_ he’d told her. _Whatever you need_.

At first, he’d just meant keeping an eye on the child when necessary, caring for him when both Leia and Han were needed elsewhere, doing whatever nebulous child rearing uncles were meant to do under the circumstances. He’d meant teaching him what bits and pieces he knew about the Force, taking him in for a couple of weeks at a time so both he and his parents could have a break from one another. He’d meant, in short, to be an uncle to the kid, devoting as much of himself to the child as his own aunt and uncle had done for him. It was the least he could do to repay Beru and Owen’s kindness.

But he was beginning to think he’d have to scour the galaxy for Jedi records at this rate and learn how to teach him properly. Obi-Wan had never prepared him for anything close to this. If it frightened him, he could only imagine what it was doing to Leia, who’d chosen a different path, yet still cared enough to know what she was getting into here.

She’d never done well when things were outside of her control and this was firmly outside of everyone’s control.

“Why not?” she asked, her fist curling under her chin as she adopted a supremely interested look on her face. Maybe she didn’t much want to talk about her impending birth either or maybe she just didn’t know what else to say. She was happy, she said, well and truly meaning it. Han was happy. She’d never been one to dwell on the good things in her own life when other people had problems she could assist with. That just wasn’t in her nature.

And apparently—at least for today—Luke’s little crush, though he hated to call it that, constituted a problem worth solving in her mind.

Lucky him.

“There are so very many reasons,” he said, “starting with the fact that he won’t talk to me.”

Leia’s eyes narrowed in thought, her attention drifting from him as she presumably attempted to confirm Luke’s assertion with her own experiences and accounts. Her memory, sharp and staggering at the best of times, didn’t let her down. He was gratified when she tipped her head in concession. “Wow,” she said. “I hadn’t even noticed.” She turned that tack-sharp mind of hers to contemplating Lando, her gaze skirting surreptitiously around where the pair of them still stood, chatting up a storm. “He’s good.”

Luke rolled his eyes. Maybe that was true, but it was certainly annoying to Luke, who still didn’t know what he’d done wrong to lead Lando to effectively stop speaking with him. Over the years, a lot of people had started to behave strangely around Luke; and Luke couldn’t lie and say he hadn’t developed a few quirks others found disconcerting. The Force worked in mysterious ways, after all, and now that Luke could sense all of it and knew what it meant, push and prod at the fabric of the universe in a manner that sometimes scared even him, well. It changed people. It certainly changed the way people looked at him.

Luke had always assumed that was what happened with Lando.

“Why don’t you go talk to him now?” Leia had a mad gleam in her eye, the kind that spelled out trouble in ten-meter high holographic words, advertised for everyone to see. Though Leia wasn’t old, none of them were really, they all felt it, weary and wary from years and years of fighting and it always showed in the eyes. Except for now when Leia managed to look as carefree as Luke had ever seen her.

She was definitely intent to cause trouble.

“I—” Luke’s eyes snapped from the table they sat at up to Lando and back again. Honestly, there was no reason why he couldn’t. That they were visiting Han and Leia at the same time was a happy coincidence; it would’ve been weird if Luke avoided Lando the whole time he was here. Who knew how long he was staying? Letting some of that troublesome gleam infect his own mood, he grinned at her. “I don’t see why not.”

And though he intended to stand up and walk over to Lando and Han, Leia had ideas of her own.

Her arm stretched high in the air as she waved at her husband and his best friend. “We’re feeling neglected over here,” she said, a pout forming on her mouth. She laid it on a little thick in Luke’s opinion. And if the dubiously cocked eyebrow Han threw back at her was any indication, he thought so, too. Lando, meanwhile, acquiesced with a good-natured shrug that merely accentuated the line of his shirt over his shoulders.

“That just won’t do,” he said, gallant, striding toward them like there wasn’t anything at all wrong in the world. He wrapped elegant fingers around the back of one of the unoccupied chairs and dropped into it, offering Leia a smile so warm that it threatened to take Luke’s breath away. When he offered the same to Luke, Luke feared his breath would steal away from him. “Luke,” he said, his eyes elsewhere on the table now. His fingernails picked at the smooth-surface of the table even though there wasn’t much chance of prying anything loose. There was a slight, soft smile on his mouth and a warmth in his voice when he said Luke’s name that, Luke had to admit, confounded him.

It was just the rest of him that seemed a little… cold in comparison.

And though Luke could use the Force, reach out with his feelings and confirm a little better just what it was that Lando felt about him, good or bad, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. It wasn’t fair for one thing and, for another, it seemed rather self-serving. Lando liked to joke and say that if he had the Force, he’d use it to get every advantage out of life he could, but Luke knew the true costs. And he knew that Lando knew those costs, too; he wasn’t nearly the scoundrel he purported himself to be. At least not by any measure Luke would use given his various acquaintances with scoundrels and truly evil men.

“Lando,” Luke finally answered. “It’s always nice to see you.” He tried to convey the same amount of warmth with his own tone that Lando did, but though at one time Luke had considered himself effusive, he’d learned something about restraint in the last couple of years. For his trouble, he earned himself an extra twitch from the corner of Lando’s mouth and a slight ducking of his head. His eyes lifted a little, his eyebrow raised in response.

“That’s very kind of you to say,” he answered, and though the words themselves were delivered smoothly, there was a hitch in them that Luke only noticed because he was paying attention to them so closely.

“I’m pretty sure I’ve said kinder things in my time.” His palm scrubbed across the hard protrusion of skull behind his ears, his fingers then tugging at the curling strands of hair around the base of his neck. It was getting long; if he had more time, he’d cut it. But on the long list of things Luke needed to do, that was very low on said list. Somewhere above settling down for good, far, far below using his gifts to help the people he cared about.

Lifting his head again, Lando considered him closely—more closely than he had since they met probably, like he was only seeing Luke for the first time. Eyes widening, he stared openly, almost brazen, more like the Lando Luke had heard other people talk about. It exhilarated Luke in a way he’d never felt before. He took hold of that feeling with both hands, fighting the urge to grin foolishly and ask Lando out right then and there.

“Come on now,” Han said, hands falling on both Luke and Lando’s shoulders. Squeezing hard, he bent forward. “Not in front of the kid.”

“The kid’s got an abdomen between us and it,” Lando answered. “I think he’s fine.”

“I meant me.” Releasing his hold, he rounded the table and took his seat, pulling his chair closer to Leia before kicking his feet up into her lap. Though she scowled, she didn’t dislodge him. “Being near you two is a health hazard given the condition I’m in.”

“You’d think he was the one who was pregnant the way he goes on about himself this way,” Leia said. “So fragile and delicate.”

“I’m a delicate guy,” he said, proud, his thumbs hooking in the collar of his shirt.

Luke flushed, well aware as he did so that it would be entirely visible across his features. And at that point, Han would know he’d struck pay dirt. And then he’d start crowing about it until the end of time.

Leia’s idea, in retrospect, seemed more like a trap than anything else.

He should have known.

Lando, his smile turning into a grimace, winced and nudged Luke in the side. It wasn’t the most comforting of gestures, but it was more than Luke was used to out of their interactions. A touch? Instigated by Lando? It was practically unheard of. And despite its commiseratory nature, Luke relished it and, in his mind, probably exaggerated the heat Lando threw out from sitting so near to him. “Why don’t we leave our fragile friend to it?” Lando suggested, more out of kindness, Luke assumed, than out of genuine desire to get out of here. “Whatever _it_ is.”

Han waggled his eyebrows. “I wouldn’t say no.”

Lando, though, he wasn’t wrong. Both Luke and Lando had been there all day and, because Han and Leia were stubborn curs, they’d spent their nights there, too, neither of them willing to hear of Luke or Lando staying in a hotel. Climbing to his feet, he held out his hand for Luke, who took it after a moment’s pause to consider what it meant. “You talk a big game, Han,” Lando said, affecting amusement. “Leia, we’ll be back later. If you decide you want to leave this knucklehead…” He pointed at Han. “…you know how to get a hold of me. Luke’ll help us in the getaway, won’t you, Luke?”

Laughing, Leia patted Han’s crossed ankles. Luke, who was too busy focusing on the fact that Lando was still holding his hand, answered only belatedly. “Sure, I’ve got my shuttle all prepped. We just gotta—”

“Hey!” Han said, pouting. “I thought you were on my side.”

With an innocent shrug, Luke merely said, as mild as he could, “All’s fair.”

That just got a pinched expression and a vague wave out of Han. “Very funny, all of you. Now why don’t you leave me with my wife for a little while, huh?”

This must’ve been the plan all along. And Luke had fallen for it.

*

The streets of Chandrila’s capital city were beautiful, though Luke’s standards for beauty were a little skewed by how few truly lovely places he’d been in his life. There was Yavin, he supposed, but having spent so much time on planets like Hoth or Dagobah, his ability to enjoy things like natural splendor and especially artistic architecture came down to vague hums of admiration that in now way made Luke feel like the backwater bumpkin he was. He scanned the evening sky, picking out constellations as they strolled along the main thoroughfare outside Leia and Han’s home, and assumed that this entire place was impressive.

To Luke’s eye, there was nothing more spectacular than the swirls of pink, purple, and blue that decorated the heavens above Cloud City. Though the shining, clean, angular buildings impressed him, they didn’t move him.

Not the way Lando’s home did.

Not the way Lando did.

And for a moment, nothing mattered more than the thought of reaching out and grabbing hold of Lando’s hand again.

Of course, he couldn’t even if he wanted to. Lando’s hands were tucked into his pockets and he seemed out of reach, the distance between them so much more than the mere feet of space that separated them.

Luke considered all the different things he might say, all of the words sticking in his throat as they came to mind. None felt right. And without Han and Leia to act as buffers, Luke felt too exposed to do either of them much good.

_You’re a Jedi. You fought the Emperor. You took down a Death Star.You can’t do this?_

Apparently not. Because the silence that fell between them that might have been considered companionable turned awkward and stretched out around them, developing its own force field through sheer awkwardness. _Say something,_ he thought. _Just tell him_.

“I—”

“You wanna get a drink?” Lando’s words spilled out even before Luke could finish working up the courage to spit his own out. “I could use a drink.”

Luke almost laughed in relief. At least somebody was doing something, even if it probably should have been him. “Sure, Lando. A drink would be good.”

*

Hanna City’s nightlife was probably vibrant for people who knew how to look for it, but neither Lando nor Luke spent much time here and Leia was too busy working to go out and find the best bars. Han was the likeliest to know something, but Luke didn’t trust his taste considering where they’d first met and also, Han didn’t much care where he went so long as liquor was involved—which meant half the time he ended up in a place he had no business going, running the risk of trouble he didn’t need to get involved in.

The likelihood of trouble happening in the heart of the New Republic seemed outlandish, but Luke supposed it wasn’t outside of the realm of possibility.

Lando, though, he must have had a talent for sniffing out decent spots because the bar he pointed at turned out to be a relatively decent one. Polished wood covered the floor and no matter where he stepped, Luke couldn’t feel anything sticky coming up along with the sole of his boot. That was a definite improvement over the places he normally wound up in. The lights were warm and inviting, illuminating the space and its occupants. No shadowy corners to hide in, not a blaster in sight.

Luke actually kind of liked the place.

Lando led him to the bar, only having to wind around a handful of other patrons, most of them sitting on stools around tall, round tables. None of them paid Lando or Luke the slightest bit of attention—a nice change of pace for a pair of ‘heroes of the Rebellion,’ oh, how times had changed—going about the business of chatting and laughing and drinking like any normal people would do.

It was nice. Very different from what Luke was used to.

Approaching the bar, Lando gave the serving droid the kind of smile Luke would’ve liked to have gotten for himself. Leaning into its space, he looked up at the thing. “You still make Tarkenian Nightflowers around here?”

“I beg your pardon?” The droid’s voice, affronted and indignant, reminded Luke a great deal of C-3PO. Disguising his laugh with a cough, he smiled behind his hand and ducked his head. “Of course we do, sir.”

“Good,” Lando said, unaffected by his apparently rude and terrible question. “Two of ‘em, please.”

“Tarkenian Nightflower? I’ve never heard of that,” Luke said, more than a little curious now. Lando’s normal drink was whiskey neat and, if not that, then whatever swill was on offer, taken with a smile and a fair share of gratitude. There was a question buried somewhere in there, but one he didn’t want to verbalize. It felt too much like prying into something else that didn’t need to be pried at.

“They’re good,” Lando answered, like there was nothing the matter at all. “I think you’ll like it.” He smiled at Luke finally, the shape of it reaching his eyes in a way that…

Well, if Luke didn’t know any better, he’d read into it. But because he did, he chose not to. Before he could think any more of it, the droid dropped a pair of small, delicate glasses before them. A pinkish, bluish liquid sloshed gently inside. It wasn’t what Luke was expecting, but he picked it up at the same time Lando did anyway. The glass was cool against Luke’s fingers and it smelled more harshly of alcohol than Luke expected. Lando raised his into the space between them and waited for Luke to do the same.

“To… good friends,” he said, his voice tinged with something else, something Luke couldn’t quite identify.

He swallowed around the sudden dryness in his throat and looked down into the surface of his glass. If Luke never said it, it would never be said. And if it was never said, they’d always be stuck in this holding pattern. Luke wasn’t much given to rash actions these days—he’d faced the consequences first hand on too many occasions to not bow to the need for patience—but sometimes… “To more than that,” he replied.

Lando could ignore it if he wanted to, conveniently or genuinely misconstrue what Luke meant. They could go about like they always did and Luke would have an answer once and for all. He could move on and maybe then Lando wouldn’t have to be so awkward around him.

Or maybe he would and Luke would just learn to accept it.

For a moment, Lando said and did nothing, not even move his glass from where he’d raised it. Then, by minute twitches, his features shifted from incredulity to hope. Hope that even Luke couldn’t deny, not with the way it fluttered through the Force, through whatever rudimentary shields Lando had subconsciously learned to build for himself. It was surprising enough that Luke threw his own shields up to avoid further invading Lando’s privacy, but the damage was already done.

And suddenly everything made sense, more sense than it had in a long time. The awkwardness, the avoidance—and Luke could see it as that now—it all… “You didn’t realize?” he asked, thinking he’d been obvious through the entirety of their acquaintance. Apparently not. He narrowed his eyes, thoughtful. Wondering, he shook his head. “All this time.” Huffing a laugh, he brushed his fingers through his hair. “You—”

But before Luke could say anything else, Lando stepped forward, swallowing the entirety of his own glass He then took Luke’s from him and swallowed that, too, before kindly placing it on the bar at their elbows. With that done, Lando took Luke’s face between his hands and kissed him, deep and so full of the same longing that Luke felt that Luke’s heart nearly broke for being the cause of it. His palms were chilly against Luke’s skin—perhaps because of the flush Luke now felt, heat flooding his cheeks. “I’ll be damned,” he said against Luke’s mouth. “I had no idea. You play it close to the chest, Jedi. I’m impressed.”

Luke tilted his head, considering. He’d heard tales about the Jedi of old, how they remained as free of personal entanglements as they could. Luke hadn’t put much thought into it yet—except to say that it felt like the height of folly to try prying them out of people. All beings needed connections to one another. The Force practically required it, connecting so much of the universe together as it was. “I don’t,” Luke insisted. “I’m certain I don’t.”

Lando smiled, gentle, and pressed his thumb against Luke’s lower lip. It was exactly what Luke had always wanted. He leaned into the touch as Lando spoke again. “You really do, but that’s okay. We got there eventually. That’s what matters.”

And then he kissed Luke again and if it was awkward, Luke didn’t mind in the slightest.


End file.
